Every Mistake You Make
by Avrie Moss
Summary: Amaya Wasii has lived with Pokemon her whole life.But when one of them nearly kills her, she begins to think of Pokemon as monsters and starts to hunt them.What will happen when she takes her hunting to far, and goes after the legendaries?


Every Mistake You Make

Chapter 1

The Sin

I never saw eye to eye with my father. He and my brother were always able to see something I couldn't about the preserve. This preserve, our home, meant everything to them. That one island was an all-in-one package: their legacy, beliefs, and hope for the world. In their minds, Pokémon were people just like us.

They believed that Pokémon are our equals.

Past tense.

Neither of them believes it any more. Because of me. Because I never saw what they did. I ruined them. I destroyed my brother's whole life.

I killed my dad.

I am a stupid, selfish, deceiving jerk. A murderer, plain and simple.

And I still, after all my deeds have caught up to me, can't see what they did.

My deeds...

Kanin, my brother, is six years older than me. When we were kids, we went out into the plains of the preserve and chased the flocks of Pidgeys all across the island. The parents of the Pidgeys attacked us one day, and we were nearly killed because Kanin refused to hurt them.

"What's wrong with you? We could've been killed!" I yelled at him as soon they let me out of my hospital bed. He was still stuck in his, covered in numerous bandages and bearing a large cast on his leg like it was a corndog with white breading.

He smiled and brushed his long blond hair out of his eyes. "It was not their fault. We should not have scared those Pidgeys like we did."

"We did not attack them! They had no right to do this to us! If they are our equals, why are they allowed to attack us and get away with it?"

"Pokémon do not attack without cause, Amaya. And no Pokémon is so cruel as to kill a human."

"Are you kidding me? Look at yourself! You'll never walk without a limp again!" My eyes welled with tears. "Look at me. Look what they did to my face."

"I'm sorry. There was nothing I could do."

I hated him then. Because he was lying. There was something he could have done. He could have picked up his gun and shot those Pigeots. But he didn't and now I have the proof of it written across my face. He cared more about his beliefs than he did about me. Those Pigeots didn't care what he believed or if we were equals when they attacked us, they were after blood.

Sharing their love for Pokémon at that point was impossible.

Years before any of us were thoughts, people and Pokémon lived as enemies. Pokémon were to be hunted and then eaten for lunch. Forget about equals; it was claws versus spear. You left the cave with nothing more than a stick with a rock attached and you chased down that Pokémon on a mixture of adrenaline and instincts. The spear that doesn't enter their chest will lay in the earth forever, a sign of the hunter's failure. But when it hits its mark, our ancestors feasted well and waited to see the next day when another Pokémon would attack and a hunter would either be made or fall to the claws.

Then one day somebody went out and said that people and Pokémon were equals and from there our world came into existence. It became a place where people and Pokémon were friends and all our years of fighting were forgotten.

That guy was a total retard.

So, since no one else would, I picked up that gun. The weapon had been designed to hold tranquilizers to gently sedate wild Pokémon, but our preserve was too small and poor to afford the tranquilizers. We had syringes filled with pure concentrated Muk sludge, capable of killing a Pokémon as big as a Wailord with just a scratch. Every group that visited the preserve had to have at least one person in their group who had and knew how to operate the gun.

When I picked it up, it felt so right, like the weapon had been forged just for me. I snuck out the back gate of our cabin and darted across the lawn to the electric fence. I checked to see if anyone inside the house had been disturbed. The lights were all off, leaving the house enveloped in the black steel of night. I jumped the broken part of the fence and hurried into the woods, letting the moon light the way.

I felt the same rush my ancestors did, the thrill of launching yourself into those talons, the near crippling fear that yours may be the spear left on the ground. The fear was more motivation though, a sign that I was scared, but brave enough to conquer it and trudge on. Through the night it was just me, my gun, and a deep primordial instinct that told me exactly what to do.

The Pokémon slept, curled up tight in their nests. I glanced at every one I passed, noting every sleeping critter. But I didn't stop until I reached my goal: a huge nest high up in the trees where the Pigeots and their children slept.

To my dismay, I can never remember what happened next. I always forget the battle's once they're done, perhaps because after so many they just meld into one rhythm. Bang! Screech! Slice! Bang! Bang! Silence. There was no silencer on my gun yet, so that first hunt echoed throughout the entire island, awakening all the Pokémon and sending every bird Pokémon flying.

Every one, except those two Pigeots.

Now I wear their talons around my neck every night when I leave the safety of the cabin to follow our ancestor's steps again. It was my routine, every night I'd leave and stay out in the forest until I shot at least one Pokémon. During the day, they all ran from me, because I was the murderer and they had no way of knowing if I carried my gun during the day. I could care less what they did. They were my prey, and I no longer had anything to fear from them.

My one night stand started it all. Pokémon hunting, despite being completely illegal and against every moral standard in the book, made a comeback.

It was just me doing it at first, sneaking out into the forest at night to hone my skills with little more than a silenced gun, a burning hatred, and an exhilaration in my veins that was like a drug. Then a visitor to the preserve saw me hunting and joined me. And then he told his friends and they came to hunt too, and so on. The preserve had never had this many visitors. Too bad they were all hunters and smugglers.

I let them in at night for one hour each, with a fine of a hundred Poké for everything they killed or captured. Secrecy was everything, so I never used my real name when I let them in. The one thing that every hunter knew was that I was the uncertified champion. The big game was mine. If they even wanted to get close to something as big as Graveler they had to impress me first. And the ones who weren't hunters, but smugglers, I occasionally would boot out. Most of the time, though, I just pretended not to see.

The preserve became a nightmare. The Pokémon were scared witless of every human on the island, to the point that they became the violent creatures they really were and began attacking anything that moved. My dad and Kanin argued every night at the park's destruction, screaming at the top of their lungs about the disappearing Pokémon and empty syringes on the ground. They knew someone was letting hunters in, but they didn't know who. They assumed it was one of the staff, but they lacked the money needed to find out. They never thought it was me. They never even suspected it was me.

I couldn't help but smile.

Amaya's Moonlight Run lasted for four years. I had everything: regular hunters, extra silencers and guns, traps, hunting lessons and a huge competition every full moon that gave a thousand Poké to whoever killed the biggest game. I was the best hunter on the island, but after I killed a Steelix, the hardest to catch because you had to hit it just right with the syringe, the hunting we had was way too easy.

My father had imported every Pokémon of every region. I'd killed at least one of each. So now I needed a challenge, an extreme to mark my official retirement. With all the hundred thousands of dollars I'd earned, I hired the best smuggler I knew and had him go capture Articuno.

He brought it back to the island and I trapped it in a huge cage at the bottom of the island ravine. Its cries filled the sky and a huge hurricane above me echoed its pain. I sat hidden on the top of the cliff with my best gun, a red and blue automatic whose power was similar to that of a master ball.

I waited for Zapdos and Moltres patiently, knowing that they would not leave their friend to rot. I expected this to be easy, but I still hoped it'd be near impossible. If I came away from this alive, I wanted some more scars on my face to prove it.

My fingers held my gun tightly and I stared through my scope with undying loyalty. I had Articuno centered in the middle of the crosshairs, not that it was needed. Articuno wasn't going anywhere. I'd tied it down with thick power canceling chains and had even driven stakes through its feet to make sure it screamed nice and loud.

And scream it did.

The earplugs I wore canceled out most of the noise, but the cries still managed to grind my ears until I thought they would shoot out blood and the remains of my shattered brain. It left me vulnerable to attack, but no Pokémon would dare come close to this horror.

I can't say the same for my dad.

His hand touched my shoulder, breaking my concentration. I jumped up quickly and unwittingly shoved my new strength, agility, and skill at handling a weapon right in his face.

His expression was horrible. A sickening mix of sorrow and disappointment, with tear filled eyes that refused to show me what he now thought of me. In one second, he aged a century and left my playful and fun loving dad in the dust.

I felt split in two at his discovery, but all the pain I'd suffered before now, from the attack and my hunting, had taught me how to keep my face blank and dead. But for one second my guard slipped, and the guilt in my heart shined like the stars.

"It was you, Amaya? You let them in?" His voice was so hoarse I could barely understand him.

There was no point in denying it, so I simply nod.

"Why?"

I stood there for several long minutes. Finally, I turned around, raised my scope to my eyes, and resumed my wait for Moltres and Zapdos.

"You can't seriously be doing this! What happened to you?"

"Dad. Go home. I'm going to finish my last hunt."

He tried to take the gun from me, but I hadn't crawled through those woods every night for nothing. I was a lot stronger than him now. The gun didn't move an inch.

"No! Amaya, you are not doing this! You're coming home right now!"

"Dream on. You can't make me come and I'm not going to go with you. Go home."

"I'm not leaving you here!"

I turned around and pointed the gun at his chest. "Go. Now."

"You won't shoot me." My dad stared at me, looking right into my eyes with a full on parental stare down.

"I won't shoot you to kill you, but I will shoot."

The sky suddenly erupted. Flames and lightning shot out of a hole in the clouds as all of Hell came out of the sky. Hundreds of legendaries flew out of the hole, screeching with fury so loud their lungs should have burst. As one, they fired their strongest attacks at me.

My gun slid from my hand.

I'd bitten off way more than I could chew. This would be it. That beautiful rainbow of fire and ice and electricity and power coming towards me was it. This would be my last day alive. And I was going to die seeing this one last beautiful thing.

I was knocked out of the way seconds before the attack hit. I turned around and watched as all of those attacks slammed into my father. There was a blinding flash and then my dad was gone.

I stared in horror at the spot where my father had stood, a black scar on the ground the only evidence of his existence. That was supposed to be my punishment. He shouldn't have saved me.

Tears made my vision blurred, but I could still see well enough to notice as a huge, black, and formless legendary appear before me. I didn't know which one it was, but it didn't really matter right now. The pain of losing my dad was crushing me and I felt like there were two gears grinding my heart into mush.

"Amaya Wasii, you have polluted this sanctuary with your actions. You have killed our brethren out of false accusations and spite and for that you must now pay."

The voice echoed in my head, sounding like a thousand voices at once. If I hadn't already felt destroyed, then hearing the power in that voice would have ripped me apart. I lost sight of everything else, and it was just me and that voice alone in the darkness of my mind.

The legendary lowered his head to look at me. His eyes were so big I could only stare at one at a time. They were cool and calculating, staring straight through me like I was glass. One of his eyes was black and the other was white, both cold and judgmental.

I recognized the legendary then. It was Selk, last judgment. The huge bodiless Pokémon that appeared at someone's death to judge their sins and determine if they belonged in heaven or hell. Was I about to die then?

"Your father sacrificed himself to save you; therefore, we cannot kill you. But you have done much wrong and it is time you learn your lesson. You will live on, but not in a place where you can harm others again."

The eyes shined in the darkness. They grew bigger and shined with a power I could never comprehend. "Amaya Wasii," Selk said, "prepare to be reborn."


End file.
